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George didn't sit down, but stood very casually, his head tilted slightly. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

I saw through the lens, his facial features were upright, his appearance was dignified, and his eyes were direct, firm, persistent, and enthusiastic......

I tried to convince myself that he was focused on photography.

The room became silent, and I quickly found the moment to pinch the shutter, and the flash flashed.

The problem is, he didn't want to let me go and still asked to take a picture of me.

"You're just too nervous, why don't you hold the Marquis like this, let it accompany you, and you might relax. ”

I shook my head desperately and said, "I don't want to take a picture of my stiff and twisted appearance, it's so ugly!"

Something suddenly occurred to him, and he walked to a room next to him, with an extra hat in his hand.

"Is it okay to put it on, not on your face?" he explained, "don't worry, this is a gift for my mother, no one has worn it yet!"

Seeing that I nodded in agreement, he quickly put on my hat for me.

And so, I came again to the curtain with trepidation, but this time, I did not sit down, but stood casually with the marquis in my arms.

Fortunately, the Marquis was very obedient, and stayed honestly in my arms, but its head turned to the side, and I did not know what attracted its attention, and I turned my head to see that there was a small dog's puppet thrown in the corner of the floor.

Do you want it to play with you, Marquis?" I thought to myself, a smile on my lips.

That's when the flash clicked, and I knew George had taken a picture. I think it was the first time I had a natural smile in front of the camera.

Next, it's the darkroom time I've been looking forward to.

I gave the little dog puppet to the Marquis, and it lay obediently outside the dark room.

He drew a cross on his chest and said that the darkroom was a red light leading to hell, and many photographers prayed before entering.

Compared to my darkroom, it's a little cluttered. Everyone sets up the darkroom according to their habits, and I didn't comment.

The first thing that caught my attention was the huge machine in the corner, which I had never seen before, and its appearance was embarrassing. Next to it is the work table, and there are several printed photos on the wall. The sink is on the other side of the wall, and there are some pictures of drying in the drying area.

Before I could take a closer look, the room darkened, and the dim red light lit up.

George kept the camera in a camera obsca for film.

As he did it, he said to me, "I'll take out the film cassette, roll it in a reel, and put it in the developer jar." ”

I whispered, "What if the person who bought this camera finishes taking 100 photos?"

"You can send the camera back to Eastman, and a dedicated person will develop the negatives and print the photos for the customer. Load the camera with new film and send it back with the photo.

"It's still too much trouble," I thought for a moment and said, "It would be nice if the film could be separated from the camera, and it would be better to send it back directly." ”

"That's what Eastman and I want to improve......"

"Maybe......" I paused, "I mean, perhaps, to make the negative box directly into a roll? Every time I help Henry pack his luggage out of the house, I always find that the clothes that lie flat don't actually fit much, and I will roll up the clothes that don't wrinkle and put them away, which can save a lot of space." ”

George thought for a moment and nodded in agreement: "Maybe it's a good idea, I'll go back and talk to Eastman!"

With that, his work was done.

George said with pride: "Don't look at this camera with a fixed focal length, but it can be clear from two meters away, and the shutter speed is only 1/25 of a second, but it is suitable for shooting most scenes in bright sunlight." ”

Next, he started teaching me darkroom techniques. Many of the new technologies that I have never been exposed to before, from increasing or decreasing exposure, forced development, local control, and stitching, to the dosage and ratio of various pharmaceutical formulations, the temperature of the chemicals, the frequency of shaking when developing photos, and the reaction time...... There are too many factors that can affect the final result of the film roll and the printed photo.

I was overwhelmed by what I was listening to.

When I developed the photographs I took, it seemed to me that there were a lot of them that had failed. In particular, in one of the landscape photos, the highlight part of the sky and the white edge left are already connected, and it is impossible to see the difference, and the black area is also black and swarthy, without any details. But under George, the picture came back to life.

He told me that this is called the area exposure method. His technique is superb, and the highlights of my photo have a clear layer of gray scales, and he says that a true master can reach eight gray levels. Oh my God, I looked at that landscape photo, and it came out like two negatives.

It seems that I have too much to learn in the future......

George drove to Farragut Square, and I looked through the window at the statue of Farragut, the first admiral of the Navy who made a name for himself during the Civil War. At that time, I had heard a lot of his stories even as a volunteer person. The statue was erected in his honor ten years ago. Later, the north side of the square gradually developed into a shopping street, and there were a few photographic equipment stores that I frequented, and I could tell Henry about what I had bought again today when I got home.

I told George to stop at the south corner of the square and told him, "I'll walk back the rest of the way." ”

He said goodbye and added: "Shamrock, you love photography more than I thought, you are very professional and have immeasurable potential, I hope you ...... Determined to become a photographer, I don't want you to miss anything. ”

I understood what he meant.

At that moment, the feeling of being cared for, the feeling of being connected, and a little happiness slowly spread in my heart.

He's right. I need to make up my mind. As soon as I entered the house, I sat on my desk and finished writing my diary for today, desperate to write down everything that happened today.

Attached at the end are two photos of me and George's artwork.

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Seeing this, Zhou Jia's hand holding the diary trembled.

"This photo ...... This is the picture!" she called, "Hatti!

Hattie immediately approached her, and Zhou Jia pointed to the photo in the diary.

Hatti looked at the photo. It's black and white, and Marianne is pictured in a black chair behind her, standing facing the camera, holding her puppy, her hat covering most of her face, but the corners of her mouth are upturned and she is smiling happily.

Zhou Jia closed his eyes. Dark. She struggled to recall that the scene she had seen in the bathroom on the first night had exactly coincided with the photograph, and a wave of fear welled up in her mind, and she said, "It's exactly the same as what I saw that night, the same vertical striped dress, the same pearl necklace, and that obviously incongruous hat!"

"The first entry in her diary?"

Zhou Jia nodded.

Hattie shrugged and said, "The fact that she showed up the first night and used the photo from the first diary doesn't mean she's reminding you to look at her diary." What does that say?"

"She's in some kind of secret group, and she's testing a new type of camera with George. These things seem to be done in secret. Zhou Jia thought for a moment, "George Eastman, if I'm not mistaken, should be the founder of Kodak, and the camera they tested is probably the Kodak No. 1 camera, which is an epoch-making creation in the history of photography." ”

"She and Kodak's founders are testing the camera?"

"No, no, no, it's a young man named George, who should know Eastman well, and they call himself 'George Crazy Photography Club'. Zhou Jia paused and said, "However, as you can read between the lines, this young George admires the clover very much......"

Zhou Jia turned to the next page, which was a photo of a young man.

Hatti raised her eyebrows and said in a slow voice, "Quite a handsome young man, estimated to be in his early twenties." Beneath the beautiful appearance, there is also a kind of wisdom. Or maybe there's another ...... Majesty. ”

Zhou Jia looked at Hatty, he was right. That is a temperament that is different from ordinary people - majesty. It is the self-confidence of a natural leader, the courage of a person in a higher position. But there was something else in his eyes, a young man who was in love with a woman older than himself. She muttered, "He's a lot like you." ”

Hattie put her hand on her face, and it felt heavy and warm.

He was a little disappointed and said, "You're wrong, I'm not going to attack a married woman!"

Hattie pinched her cheek, and for a second Zhou Jia was embarrassed by what she had said.

He continued: "Lonely men and widows often work together in dark environments. Something will inevitably happen, isn't the betrayer his husband, but her red apricot who came out of the wall first, so she attracted the disaster of killing, right?"

A glimmer of possibility flashed in Zhou Jia's mind, but she quickly vetoed it, saying, "If that's the case, she should be ashamed, why bother with this house, and the soul will not be gone?"

"My dear, there are not only wronged ghosts in this world, anger and unwillingness may be more difficult to let go than wronged. ”

"So, you think she's a ghost too?"

Hattie looked a little taken aback and asked, "Why, don't you think so?"

"I don't know...... I don't know......" Zhou Jia always felt that something was wrong, she muttered.

Hatti pointed to the diary and said, "Then read on, maybe you will be told later to know - the truth of the matter!"

That's right, she looked at a whole box of diaries and thought: after reading this, you can't miss the slightest detail, I don't know how many days it will take.

She needed Pierre's help.

So Zhou Jia took a picture of the first diary with his mobile phone, and then took a photo before each one, and sent these documents to Pierre.

After that, she began to read through the secret diaries, and was immediately drawn into the world of Clover.

Since the first diary, the content for nearly a month has been all about photography. Clover is immersed in the theory of photography that George taught her. Every few days, she would post a piece of her work in her diary. In the photo, not only Kodak camera shots, but also wet plates, it seems that the two men are constantly testing and discussing the differences. Clover has always believed that wetplate photographs have more detail, while George argues that technological progress is unstoppable. They are always discussing photography, sometimes-for-tat, sometimes inspiring each other, very professional, and nothing happens.

In early December, another topic began to pop up in Clover's diary—her mother.

☆☆☆

Washington, D.C., December 6, 1882

Wednesday, cloudy

I was just about to start writing in my journal when Henry told me to come downstairs for dinner. The servants had already set the table, and he himself poured me white wine, and I had fish tonight, but I was not hungry. Or maybe I've been hoping to find an excuse to go upstairs and write my journal as soon as possible. But somehow, Henry was in high spirits tonight, and he was alone most of the time.

I couldn't listen. I thought about my diary and watched the clock above the candlestick slowly point from 8 to 9 and then to 9:30. When it was almost 10 o'clock, Henry realized it was so late. So he said, "I think I'm going to send two letters, and Clarence says that he plans to go to Japan next year, and I'm really interested, and I really want you to go with me to see the country of the East." ”

I smiled and tilted my head. I didn't care about the Toyo country at all, I was in a hurry to go upstairs to record this afternoon's events.

George thought I was excellent at my own vision and delicate style when it came to portrait work, and he wanted me to focus on that. He said he would bring someone and ask me to take portraits of them. He reassured me that because the people I was going to shoot were all members of the "Saturday Club", everything would be kept in the highest secrecy.

The time is scheduled for today.

But when I saw people, I was stunned.

I'm going to shoot a lady, an older lady.

Ms. Elizabeth Peabody (9), George told me that she was not only one of the first members of the "Saturday Club", but also one of the female cadres of the Transcendentalists, and the manager of the Transcendental periodical Corona magazine. And she knew my mother very well.

My gaze fell on his face, and he quickly looked over and smiled at me.

I immediately understood his intentions.

During this time, I was so obsessed with photography that I almost forgot that we had another mission, which was to investigate my mother's death, Mr. Agassi's deathbed confession that "there was a mystery about her death", and his last wish was for me and George to investigate and find out the truth.

Ms. Peabody's hair was gray, her cheeks were slightly chubby, and her fur coat made her look even more bloated. She said, "I'm freezing to death! My old woman wants to put on all her thick clothes!"

I was a little surprised, her voice was loud and full of confidence.

George offered to help her take off her fur coat.

I hurriedly said, "I just made a hot coffee, can I bring you a cup?"

"That's a good feeling, little angel!" her eyes were blazing.

My heart skipped a beat, remembering that William had said that the members of Transcendentalism called my mother "Angel." I whispered, "You might as well call me Shamrock!" (To be continued.) )